Hazel Hears the Fireworks Giggle — From the front bench of the celebration pontoon, Hazel tapped her pencil on the rail and tried to count every flag before the next firework popped. Read the full story →
From the front bench of the celebration pontoon, Hazel tapped her pencil on the rail and tried to count every flag before the next firework popped. The lake smelled like sunscreen, pine needles, and grilled corn drifting from faraway docks. Behind her, Uncle Ray steered in lazy loops while the canopy creaked, and the water slapped the pontoons with a plip-plop-plip that made her pencil answer back.
More boats joined the parade, each wearing bunting like a fancy cake. Hazel heard a tiny tap-tap from under her seat, then another tap from the cup holder, then a fizzy snicker from the flagpole. “Who’s knocking?” she whispered. A silver beetle wearing a crumb of popcorn on its head marched out, clicked its feet three times, and the next firework burst in the exact same rhythm.
Soon Hazel was not counting flags at all. She tapped a zigzag, the beetle clicked it, and five fireworks wiggled across the sky like noodles with stars on the ends. Uncle Ray only said, “Best show yet,” as if fireworks always took requests from snack-stealing beetles. Next time you see the front rail and all those flags, check whether Hazel’s pencil is ready for one more plip-plop-plip.
